


Discoveries in London

by WitchHazelSage



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 1998), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, London, Mutual Pining, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-13 08:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21241115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchHazelSage/pseuds/WitchHazelSage
Summary: After an awkward encounter, Constance wants to avoid Lynne. But when Mildred is given the opportunity to have her work shown in a prestigious gallery in London, Constance is forced to spend the week with her. This causes Constance to confront her feelings for the artist and things about herself she hadn't known before.





	1. Music in the Night

Constance watched as the woman in charge of art week passed by her. With haste, she rushed to her with her sketch pad in hand, clutching it desperately to her. Lynne turned her direction, to see who had suddenly appeared by her side.

“Miss Hardbroom, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Lynne asked, her sweet voice thick from tiredness.

“I am aware it is quiet late, but I wondered if I might ask for your assistance again,” Constance asked, uneasy with herself. Inwardly, she scolded herself over how desperate she sounded. It wasn’t even an urgent matter. She couldn't understand why she felt nervous asking. Perhaps it was because she rarely asked for anything, let alone help.

“Yea, sure. What is it?” Lynne asked, suppressing a yawn. 

“If you’re too tired, it can wait until morning,” Constance said. Her fingers playing subconsciously with the edge of the paper like some bashful school girl. It was entirely unbecoming, and infuriatingly unusual for her.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I don't mind,” Lynne said with a sly smirk and a twinkle in her eye. Constance nodded, thankful. With a mild fear of Lynne viewing her art again, she handed her sketch pad to Lynne as the entered her classroom.

“You said it needed personality, only I am having a… difficult time grasping the movement."

Lynne looked down at the drawing before her. Much like the last it was wonderfully done, but sharp, a bit rigid, and without proper emotion. This one was less of a photo copy and had more personality. In the three days Lynne had been here, she had noticed it was just in Constance’s character. She let out a small sigh and, without looking up she moved over to the desk with Constance following.

“For starters, you’re pushing your pencil down to hard,” she explained, setting down the sketchpad. “Sit.” Constance sat, uneasily, at her desk. She picked up the pencil where she had left it. “Draw a straight line for me, then a curved.”

Nervously, Constance did as she was told. When she had finished, she looked back up from her work to Lynne who was staring at her smiling. Constance swore made her forget to breath for a moment. Being close to the artist made her feel unusual, it was altogether unfamiliar feeling. There was a tightness in her chest, and it took all her strength not to fidget with the pencil.

“It’s good, but try it again. Hold the pencil more delicately. Let your hand move like it’s a fluid motion.”

“I don’t understand,” Constance comment with a comical expression. She just wanted to learn. Not only could drawing plants help her own herbology guides, which could help her students, but Constance desperately felt the need to have Lynne's approval.

“When it comes to nature, things rarely have exact definitive lines. You draw with a precise eye, which isn’t wrong by any means. You told me you choose Maidenshair because of how delicate it was and breezeful. You were right. Nature is a moving thing, changing with the weather. You’ve gotten much better. Only, it would be more life like if you added, well, you into it.”

“You've said that already. And I am trying," Constsnce said, followed by a nearly defeated sigh.

Lynne thought for a moment, chewing the inside of her lip as she did. Constance watched, transfixed on every motion the woman made. If she thought, she could still remember what it felt like when Lynne touched her shoulder. Just the thought caused her stomach to relight with a flurry of butterflies. It had just been a casual touch, given to Constance to reassure her. Of course Constance knew this, she wasn't a fool. In normal circumstances, Constance would have expelled the situation immediately. Yet with Lynne, she found herself wanting it again. Yes, she knew what it was meant to be, but Constance wanted it to be more. She knew she had savored it for more than it was worth.

Constance looked away, trying to hide the sudden warmth in her cheeks at thinking about it. She kept herself at distance for a reason. She never allow to let her shield drop, or at least tried desperately to not allow if she could help. Certainly not around someone she had only met a few days prior. She hated these feelings, but had sought out Lynne to feel them again. Even when her mind to screamed at her not to. She knew that was why she had done it, not because she wanted help. It was true she wanted to better herself, but having the woman near was what she really wanted.

Lynne tilted her head, smiling, an idea having formulated in her mind. “When was the last time you danced and let your hair down,” she asked.

“I don’t dance, and when Miss Drill…” Constance stopped herself, almost admitting that Miss Drill had nearly been inducted as a witch, and that they were all witches. “Miss Drill had a ceremony not that long ago. It is customary to for such things.”

Lynne nodded, though her eyes almost seemed distant. “I think that may be part of the problem.”

“How, exactly?”

“Stand.”

“But you just told me to sit?”

“And now I am telling you to stand,” Lynne said with a soft chuckle. Constance rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed, but stood. “Do you have a radio?”

“Absolutely not,” Constance asked, almost offended by the question.

“You really haven’t confiscated one?”

“Why do we need it?”

“I want to help you, and music is a form of movement. It might help.” She gave another soft sigh. “I have a CD player. I’ll be right back.” 

Before Constance could object, Lynne was out of the door. Constance stood, pacing in anticaption of what was to come next. Her mind running back and forth to how stupid her actions had been, and the other fight of her didn't care. How silly she felt, how truly ridiculous. Why did she crave Lynne's presence so badly? For that matter, why was her presence so nerve racking? She'd never been so nervous around anyone, including those she had dated in that past. But just seeing the artist smile gave her one.

She knew not much time had past before Lynne reappeared in the classroom with a CD player clipped to her hip and a few CD's in hand. She moved to Constance’s desk, going through her CD’s one at a time.

“Nope,” Lynne muttered setting aside one disk. “Come on, where is it.” When Constance opened her mouth to ask what she was looking for, Lynne popped up. “Here it is!” She said with excitement. Quickly, she swapped the disk that was in for the one in her hand. After pausing the music, she ushered Constance over to her as she turned to the chalk board. “Come here.”

Not knowing what was about to happen, Constance moved her feet slowly to Lynne. Lynne, who was still smiling softly, assured. Lynne grabbed Constance’s arm gently, pulling her closer causing Constance's eyes to widen. She couldn't remember the last time she was this close to anyone. From here she could smell Lynne, a faint tea and honey mixuture. Lynne faced them to the chalk board, with Lynne standing directly behind Constance making the two nearly pressed against one another. Constance had to take extra effort into breathing. If she didn't, she was certain she would hyperventate. Lynne picked up the chalk handing it to Constance, which Constance took with slightly shaking hands. The position they were in being so intamite Constance could barely focus.

“Listen to the music,” Lynne explained, using her hand to place one of the two ear buds in Constance’s ear. “Don’t draw anything specific, it doesn’t matter if it is just scribbles. Just close your mind and draw what moves you. I’ll help,” Lynne instructed.

Lynne brought their hands to the chalk board. With her other hand she pressed play, and then allowed her hand to rest on Constance’s hip. Constance took a sharp intake of breath, and quickly cast a gaze to where Lynne's hand rested. No one ever touched her like this, at least not without serious consequences. She never let people get so close, but found herself revelling in the closeness. This woman wasn't scared of her, or put off by her brashness. This woman touched her with tenderness. She squeezed her eyes closed. Just because she may have these thoughts, didn't mean Lynne did. She couldn't give herself the allowance of such hope, unable to stand the idea of it being false hope.

Forcing her eyes open, Constance tried to focus on the task at hand and not where Lynne's hands met hers. The music began playing. It was a soft string music at first, a harp she concluded. Then, a womans soothing voice began. Lynne began moving their hands as the tempo escalated slightly. It was peaceful, calming. Constance felt her eyes drift closed, easing her emotions. It almost if her heart was hammering in her chest, but she didn't mind it. The rhythm of it carrying the electric spark of magic down to her finger tips.

Without Constance’s knowledge, her hand began moving on her own accord. Lynne’s hand simply resting on top of hers now, going along with her. She could feel the movement of her song flowing from her ear down her body and out of her hand and onto the chalk board. She didn’t realise when the rest of her body began moving with the song, swaying to the soft melody. She was dancing and didn’t even notice. For the first time in her life, she understood the simplicity of gentle motion, how it flowed. She now understood what Lynne meant. Their movements where like the leafs on the wind was, as delicate and sharp as herself. She wondered if it was the wind who mimicked her.

Lynne began signing softly in her ear, the action causing a warmth to bloom throughout Constance’s body. A soft hum came from Constance, feeling at ease. Constance noticed that she had leaned back into Lynne, pressing against the younger woman. Lynne shifted her hand over Constance's hip to rest flat on her stomach. Constance became all to aware of their position then, as a rage of emotions coursed through her. She shot open her eyes, and looked to Lynne, who's face was entirely to close to her own. The two stopped their movements, and looked at one another.

The song sang softly, 'Our fingers touch, our hearts collide.' It ringing true to her current position. Her hands shook, dropping the chalk. Constance found herself paying no mind to that, as her eyes drifted to Lynne's lips. They were full and looked soft. The thought of how wonderful they would feel on her flashed through her mind. It wouldn't be much effort to kiss her, just a simple tilt of the head. Fear quickly replaced the thought. Panicked, Constance pushed back, knocking Lynne away from her and the ear bud from her ear. Constance turned, taking a few steps backwards from the chalk board. 

“I’m sorry, did I upset you,” Lynne asked, clearly hurt by the sudden change in atmosphere.

“I…” Constance didn’t know how to answer her. Lynne hadn’t upset her. No, she didn’t know what was wrong. “I am tired,” she lied.

“Oh, well. Alright. If you’d like, we can continue this tomorrow?”

“No, it is alright. I wouldn’t want to impose,” Constance said, gathering her things from her desk.

“I don't mind, rea—“

“I should go to sleep,” Constance said attempting to rush off, but Lynne stopped her momentarily.

“Before you do,” Lynne began, grabbing her wrist gently. “It’s beautiful.”

“Huh?” Constance asked, looking to where Lynne was pointing. 

As she did, she noticed what she had drawn. It was a beautiful tree, with several leafs falling from it. It wasn’t a masterpiece, nor finished, but she still could not believe she had drawn it. Let alone she had done it with her eyes closed. She knew that her magic had it’s hand in this. Her emotions had allowed magic to seep out without her knowledge to create this. That she had let her heart control her magic as she mindless scribbled. Something that was not to be done, emotions should never control magic. She couldn’t understand why, after years of conditioning herself to keep distance, all she wanted was to close theirs. She'd spent so long learning to control her magic, only to have her power come at the most confusing time.

“Thank you,” she said weakly, before exiting the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really isn't a lot of Constance/Lynne content out there. This is a full story that I am almost done writing now. I will try to publish a new chapter every 2 days. Also, the first few chapters they aren't in London but are set up. And this is a self discovery story for Constance, but also isn't. If that makes any sense at all. But I hope anyone who might read this enjoy it.
> 
> I'm sorry if there is errors. I don't have a beta. I am trying to catch any I see, but if there are any and you wish to tell me then I would be happy to.


	2. The Lies We Tell

Art week was coming to an end. Mildred had been announced the winner of the contest. All the while Constance had avoided Lynne as best she could. After getting into a small fight with Lavina over how they were meant to create art, resulting in Lavina falling into the creek and down stream, did Constance realise how this silly crush was effecting her daily life. Even when not around the woman. It was annoying if she was honest, she didn't have crushes and never had. She couldn't make sense of why she would have now.

How she somehow wound up alone with Lynne a half hour before departure was beyond her. She hadn't expected anyone at all to be in the staff room, with the gathering in the Great Hall still going. Constance tried focusing on her tea while Lynne gathered some of her things. 

"Miss Hardbroom, you haven't seen my jumper by chance?" Lynne said. 

Constance closed her eyes as her heart sped up slightly at hearing her name. There was also the slight sting at using such a formal name, even if it was appropriate. Trying to control her emotions she took a deep breath. Without looking up, she responded. 

"I do not believe I have."

Lynne sighed. Constance could see her looking around. "Prehaps I overlooked it." 

"How could you possibly overlook such a gaudy pink thing?" Constance said. She heard Lynne huff, and saw out of the corner of her eye Lynne leaning against the table directly beside her. Constance felt she had to look up at her.

"I know you said I didn't upset you the other night but it really feels otherwise. Do you hate me or something?" 

"Hate you? Why on Earth would you even—" Constance stopped midsentence. It occured that Constance realised how Lynne must have thought of her actions. 

Constance felt she hadn't had a choice. She had seen too much in the situation. She was often terrible at reading similar situations, why would the other night be different? Lynne hadn't wanted to kiss her. Of course she hadn't, Constance thought. Who would? She wondered that night, for the briefest of moments. Now, she knew she had been wrong. Why would Lynne even consider such a thing? She was a reknown artist. Beautiful and confident. She was so sure of herself in ways Constance could only ever dream of being. Teachers where probably far below her standards. Let alone Constance. Constance was dull, boring even, compared to such an excentrict woman. Why would Lynne even consider her in the way Constance had? 

Relationships weren't her fortay. Any one she had ever been in was simply because she felt she was supposed to be in one. Everyone else had been, and felt she also should be. But they had never felt right, and she always ruined them in one way or another. She had simply counted them off, and had never batted an eye at it until now. She hadn't thought she would ever want to kiss someone or want them to kiss her. She couldn't make sense of this sudden change of these thoughts. Long ago had she accepted this, but looking at Lynne they all felt like a contradiction of herself. So, she concluded, there was no good Constance putting her heart out there for such a hopeless endeavor. It would only hurt her, something she would prefer to avoid if she could. And it wasn't as though Constance would ever see her again after this week. She would go back to her normal self.

Glancing up to Lynne, she noticed how long she had been silent. Sitting up straighter, she found the words to say. They weren't the ones she wanted to say, but needed to. In protection of herself, she pressed on. "To hate you would require giving you thought, something I am afraid I haven't done."

It was a lie. A bold face lie that Constance stated as a fact. The words felt like poison on her lips. She watched them wound Lynne. There was an extra glisten to her eyes, and a visible swallow as she tried containing herself. She pushed off the table. 

"Are you always so cold hearted?" Lynne lashed before storming out of the room. 

Constance her a soft cry come from her lips. It was ridiculous! She didn't know this woman! Why did she make her so emotional! It was irrational, she thought, and a waste of her time. But damn it if what Lynne said hadn't cut through her deeply. She didn't normally care what people thought of her, yet for Lynne to say such a cruel thing left her with her hand over her mouth, covering her cries so no one would hear. 

After a moment, she was able to collect herself. She dabbed her cheeks dry, righting herself so no on-looker would come to the conclusion she had been crying. She hated people seeing her weak. Having her co-workers see her waver in the face of Broomhead was enough, and far more that she ever cared to show. She refused to let them see any more. Clearing her throat, she stood. She was required to be present at Lynne's departure, and she refused to allow the woman have any more affect on her. She would see her off and be rid of her for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys had a great Halloween/Samhain.
> 
> Thanks to those who have read so far. I know this chapter was a bit angsty, sorry for that. But it's set up lol. I swear.
> 
> Also, I realized I forgot to credit the sign used in the last chapter even if it was only a few lyrics. I always try to credit when I use a song and can't believe I forgot. Anywho, the song from the last chapter was (ironically, given that I wrote this chapter over a year ago) Samain Night by Loreena McKennitt.


	3. Letters from London

Amelia looked over her mail as she ate lunch. Constance cast a quickly glance toward her, knowing how Amelia hated working through her meals, and hoped for her sake it was all personal mail. She turned her attention back to the window into the courtyard. The girls had asked to eat outside with Lavina. Constance, of course, was keeping a close eye on the far to leanient teacher.

"Anything good," she heard Imogen joke.

"Here is one from Miss Lamplighter," Amelia said. Constance's head snapped back to her, eyes widen just slightly. She had tried to force the woman from her mind. And for the most part had succeeded. It had been months since she had heard her name. One school year had ended and another began. And she was glad for it. 

"Oh, what is it?" Imogen asked as Amelia opened the letter. 

"I may be a witch, Miss Drill, but I am not psychic," Amelia deadpanned, flipping the letter open. Constance could only watch in trepidation as Amelia read. She hoped, no she prayed, the woman wouldn't be coming back. She wasn't sure her heart could handle seeing her again. Not after how they had left things. 

"She hosting an exhibit near the end of first term in London, and was hoping to display Mildred's work as part of it."

"Oh, that is wonderful news! Mildred will be so excited!" Imogen exclaimed with a broad smile.

"Yes, I do think she would. She says she would also like to invite her for a week to do so, in combination with a week of holiday to 'expand her knowledge if art history."

"That would be perfect for her, given her major next year," Imogen continued.

"Quiet so."

"It would be quiet foolish to allow Mildred to go to London!" Constance countered.

"You think?" Amelia asked, turning toward her.

“Do you honestly trust Mildred Hubble, of all the girls, alone in London for an entire week?!” Constance asked, almost scoffing at the very idea. She approached Amelia to help ease the older witches back.

“Constance, she is 17—"

“But Mildred Hubble?! Really, Amelia? And while she is supposed to be under our care. If anything were to happen to her, it would fall directly on our heads,” Constance fought. “Do you really want any mishaps the girl could have to come on under us? Is it wise?"

Amelia frowned, knowing Constance was all to right. “I suppose you’re right. If this was her parents deciding it, it would be different. This, however, is our responsibility. Who do you suggest we send with the girl? Miss Drill?”

“Mildred has slipped past Miss Drills fingers far too much,” Constance said with annoyance.

"She has not!" Imogen said, defending herself.

"Might I recall only last year when she turned you into a dog!"

“Then who should go with her? You?”

“Me?” Constance asked, horrified. The meer idea of spending an entire week alone with Mildred was enought to make her blood curtle. Not to mention, the thought of being around Lynne the whole while terrified her. She couldn't face Lynne now, not after what she had said. "What about Laviana?"

“You are sternest. You will ensure no schinnigans will happen,” Amelia defended Imogen's idea.

“I know this,” Constance reluctantly agreed. Amelia did have a point. "However, I was suggesting not entertaining of allowing her to go at all."

“This is her reward for her work, Its to wonderful of an opportunity to pass her by. Wasn't it you who said only last week that her natural talents should be further explored? This could be a step in the right direction for that. It is only a week, Constance. Do you think you can survive that without biting her head off?"

“I think it could be… manageable. But there—" she stopped herself. She couldn't say what there had been, not to them. She couldn't stand their judgement of whom she had wanted in her bed. The thought paralyzed her in place. She froze unable to correct herself verbally. Had she wanted Lynne that badly?

“Thank you, Constance,” Amelia said. She looked to Imogen. "Would you be so kind to get Mildred so we can share the news?"

Imogen scuffled out, and returned with a nervous Mildred shortly. Amelia gestured calmly for the girl to come closer.

"I have some exciting news for you Mildred," Amelia said, extending the letter for Mildred to take. The confused girl did. After quickly scanning it her face lit up. 

"Honestly?!" Mildred asked, brighter that a sunbeam. 

"Yes, we've discussed that it would be better for you not to miss such an important opportunity. There are conditions though. Your grade must not slip, or any trouble. Is that understood?"

"Yes!" Mildred said, nodding wildly.

"And Miss Hardbroom will be going you."

“I have to go to the gallery with Miss Hardbroom?” Mildred asked, suddenly deflating. There went all of her plans for a good week.

“Yes,” Constance said, as she stood by Amelia. "Did you think this would be a simple holiday, Mildred Hubble? This is important to further your education for your future. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Mildred said, much calmer than she had been a moment ago.

“We are only doing this to avoid any mayhem. If anything were to happen to you whilst you are meant to be in our care, that will immediately fall onto the entire school. Therefor, I cannot, in good continuous, send you to London alone for an entire week.”

“But Miss Hardbroom?” Mildred asked, almost pleading for anyone but her.

"It won't be a picnic for me either, Mildred. I assure you," Constance said, almost in an annoyed growl.

“Miss Hardbroom is the most effective at keeping you in line, which I expect you to be this trip," Amelia explained. Mildred slumped in her chair.

"No fun is more like it," Mildred mummbled, unhappily.

"It is either go with me or do not go at all, either way does not affect me," Constance lied. It affected her a great deal, to be honest. The thought of seeing Lynne affected her much more than she would care to admit. Let alone, see her several times throughout the week.

Mildred slumped back. "Fine," she grumbled. "I'm sure it can't be to bad."

"So pleased to see you will tolerate me," Constance remarked ironically, as if it were the other way around. "And I expect no foolery, is that understood?"

"Yes, Miss Hardbroom," Mildred said, clearly attempting at holding in her complaints.

"That is all Mildred," Amelia said, almost remorsefully. Mildred shuffled off to join her friends, and Constance now allowed herself to sulk.

"I do hope it goes quickly," Constance grummbled.

"I'm sure if the two of you keep yourself occupied, it will," Amelia said pointedly.

It took everything within Constance not to huff and pout like a child. She could hardly fathom the idea. She refused to show Amelia this though, trying to appear unphased. She knew Amelia well and clear how she felt, but she had inovertently brought it upon herself.

Taking her leave, she left the office. She transfered to the greenhouse. Since Mr Blossom had left the school, Constance found herself tending to the ingreditents he normally did, and had even planted new ones for her own use. Of course, she did this effortly with magic, but she found the area peaceful. It was unlikely that the girls would bother her in here, the classroom had much more of a danger to be spotted. Here, she could sit for hours uninterupted, which is exactly what she intended now.

Summoning her journal and favourite pen, she carefully flipped to the next blank page. She hadn't let on to anyone, but she had began drafting her own book of magical herbology and potions. She doubted highly she would going to do anything with it, but felt at ease while working on it. 

Looking up, she noticed a bud had bloomed on her Tickory flower overnight. It was a beautiful flower of deep red and black spots. Deciding that would be her next page, she positioned herself to draw it. Understanding now how it flowed, it's petals sweeping and resting against one another delicately. She closed her eyes, capturing the image there. Her photographic memory coming to play. Without opening her eyes, she allowed the magic to flow through her. The image in her head filled her with emotion, as did every image she now drew. It was beautiful and delicate but laced with the rements of hurt that always lingered deep within her. The pain that entered her mind was always difficult, but the joy that came over took it every time. When she did this, she always felt at peace.

Constance didn't tell anyone of this new found magic. She didn't want to. It was hers, for her enjoyment. And she did enjoy it. When her head was to congested with everything else, this helped her clear it. It was something unique and hers. Something Lynne had given her, and that she charished. As angery and hurt as she had been by Lynne, she had gifted her this and she was ever thankful. It was her refuge aside from potions. But where potions distracted her from her own thoughts, this helped put some of them at rest.

Of course, she couldn't help but see the similarities between this new found magic and Mildred's. Of course, Mildred's had a much more practical use. But she felt the same pride within herself that she had felt when she discovered Mildred's drawing magic. Pride in herself was not easy to come by. She was always comparing her skills to the others in her field. And while she knew she her skills were great, she was always trying to be better. She was never good enough. She supposed that was, in part, why she had sought Lynne that night. To become better after feeling she wasn't enough. Well, that and her personal feelings. Art, she had learned, was more than just being the best. This allowed her to relax. The more relaxed she felt the better her art became as she was able to tap into her magic.

As she finished, she opened her eyes. Looking down at her artwork, she smiled. She wanted to touch it, but knew the ink was still to wet. She'd noticed that with each new drawing it also showed more and more of herself. They each held a different part of her emotions, the very essance of who she was. This knowledge alone was why Constance was so worried of sharing this with anyone. It was too personal for her. It expressed herself too much, exposing things she kept guarded. No, this was for her and her alone. Her sollace. Her life story in art.

Beginning the next page, she labeled the page. She began writing down the flowers properities and uses in the same formation she had with the others. She wrote of all the different potions it was used in. With practiced ease she boxed them in each section in precise borders. She set off to the next page, repeating the process until she heard the supper bell ring. Setting the journal off back to its safe location in her room, she went off feeling calmer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented or left a comment. I really do appreciate it! I didn't think this story would get many views at all, and how many hits it's gotten so far is surprising. But I really do appreciate everyone who is reading.


	4. Art Gallery

Constance entered the gallery with Mildred beside her. The building was large, and the decor seemed old in design, much to Constance taste. It was filled wall to wall with various paintings and sculptures, most of which were Lynne's. They walked through the gallery, through the crowd of people. The door's hadn't even opened, and there was already too many people for Constance's liking.

The two witches had already made their way to the hotel to check in. Mildred quickly changed from her school uniform into more formal clothing. Her uniform was not proper for the gallery, but Amleia had insisted on letting Mildred wear her normal clothing during this holiday. Something that Constance obvisouly did not agree with, but had lost the battle in. Constance refused to conform to the non magical world and would continue to wear her normal attire, even now.

It took several minutes before Lynne found them. A loud "Mildred!" Was heard from several feet away. Lynne stepped better into view, and caught sight of Constance. "Miss Hardbroom?" Lynne asked, coming closer to them. She seemed in true awe to see her.

"Hello, Miss Lamplighter," Constance awkwardly said. Her nerves already growing just seeing the woman. The psychodelic pants were gone, and had been replaced with a long blue and green dress. Her hair rested completely down, straight, with one side tuched behind her ear. Constance had thought the woman had easily taken her breath away before, she had clearly been mistaken. Every thought she had pushed down, bloomed above the surface so quickly she couldn't keep up.

"You came?" Lynne asked with a hint of hope in her voice.

"Yes, as Mildred's supervisor."

"Oh. Of course," Lynne said with clear disappointment.

A heaviness filled Constance's heart at this, and she wasn't sure if it was good or not. Having the knowledge that Lynne seemed hurt that Constance hadn't come for her made her feel almost guilty. She knew that this guilt was coincided with some of her words. Refusing to believe this meant what she wanted it to, she swallowed thickly. It was a risky gamble. One that put her heart on the line. That was not a risk she was willing to take, never so blindly. She tried to squander the thoughts that had taken months to silence last time. 

"It's lovely to see you again," Lynne said, with a quick smile. 

Constance felt her chest fluttering. No, this could be what she wanted. It simply couldn't. Catching herself, she straightened her poster. "Should we locate Mildred's work?"

"This way!" Lynne said. Easily the three walked the floor about them, Lynne with practiced ease, till they stood in front of Mildred's artwork. "Here we are."

Mildred was now the one smiling broadly. "It's almost like a dream, seeing it up and proper like this!"

"With a talent like yours, I'd suggest you'd get use to it," Lynne praised, making Constance want to roll her eyes. Mildred almost bursted with pride. They could hear the doors opening for the public, people began filing in. "Mildred, you should try to stay as close to your work as possible that way scouts and critics can talk to you."

"You're not staying with us?" Mildred asked.

"My art's spread throughout the gallery. I normally make rounds throughout the floor. But if you wouldn't mind me snagging your teacher for a bit to give you some time to talk to a few people one your own-"

"Please!" Mildred agreed to too quickly.

"Wish to be rid of me that badly?" Constance challenged.

"Not really, but I want to talk to some people without you hovering over me," Mildred admitted, making Lynne laugh slightly.

"If you would," Lynne said, indicating for Constance to follow. Reluctantly, she did without a word.

They walked together for several minutes in silence, looking at the pieces. Truth be told, the art style was not of Constance's taste, far to modern. She preferred a more classic sense. In fact, she found nearly all the art confusing. Though not bad, she couldn't bring herself to like it as the others here seemed to. But she said nothing, as she wasn't certain which were Lynne's or not. She didn't wish to upset the woman more than she already had. Constance couldn't help but feel the weight of their last encounter pressing down on her. She knew she should apologise but she couldn't bring herself to actually say the words out loud. Afraid that if she did say anything at all, everything she had thought about the woman would spill out of its own volition.

They stopped in front of a piece. It was an abstract of a woman in all black leaning straight against some line, that Constance assumed was meant to resemble a chair. It was mostly rather sharp line work, no defining of any features, everything above the jaw cut off into a cloud of black smoke with roses interwoven in it. The only thing clearly defined and semi realistic, was the womans hand that was raised to the womans stomach, resting softly. It almost looked like it lingered there.

Lynne was looking at it fondly, Constance realised as she looked to her. She wasn't scrutinizing her own work, but seeming to admiring it. That was when Constance noticed how the lighting softed Lynne's features. The gold lighting illuminated her gently, almost like a halo. It made Lynne's blue eyes almost appear a marvelous shade of green. Constance felt in awe of how beautiful she was.

Lynne turned to her, catching Constance in her intense stare. Quickly, she looked away, feeling her face grow warm at being caught. Constance cleared her throat, turning back to the painting. She could see out of the corner of her eye Lynne was still looking at her.

"She's my favourite of this collection," Lynne said. Constance hummed in response, leaning in the painting, looking at all the brush strokes. "Beauty is the name of the piece."

"What a superficial name," Constance commented, standing straight. She crossed her arms.

"Perhaps, but I think it is because of the muse," Lynne confessed.

"Oh?" Constance asked. "And who do you think was this artist muse?"

"Excuse me, Lynne?" Constance heard from behind them, causing them to turn around. A man near Constance's age stood, turned towards Lynne.

"Brandon, hello!" Lynne said, taking the man's hand. "Constance, this is Brandon Porter, journalist of London Art Magazine. Bradon, this is Constance Hardbroom."

Brandon extended his hand for Constance to shake with a poliet. "Nice to meet you."

Constance looked down to the hand, refusing the handshake. She only raised her brow, and gave a simple, "You too."

Brandon was put off by this, but only briefly. Recovering, he looked to Lynne. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about this piece for the article of the expo."

"Of course. Ask away," Lynne gladdly offered. Constance looked back to Lynne, almost guilty that she hadn't noticed it was her artwork.

"This piece has a very distinctive vibe to it. For someone who normally shys away from black and white, what made you decide to do it for this? And why the smoke of roses?"

Lynne took a deep breath thinking. "I think it was because the muse for this project. She is very clear cut, and blunt. Except for when she isn't, and is complete mystery."

"Is that why the smoke in place of a head?"

"Precisely. Clear cut, but you never really can see what's going on in that beautiful head of hers," she said with a soft laugh. "She is very assertive and clear, but when you need her to be she can be beautiful and confusing."

"And the black and white is as cookie cutter is as possible."

"That it is. But mostly it is black because she once told me black was her favourite color," she said. Constance suddenly felt nerves bubble again. She couldn't have meant her? Black was many people's favourite, wasn't it?

"I'd love to meet this muse someone," Brandon added in a friendly tone. "She sounds like quiet an interesting person."

"You already have," Lynne replied, looking to Constance. "She's standing beside me." Constance snapped her head to Lynne, who appeared to be blushing softly. "In my defense, I didn't think you'd ever see it. I had no idea you were even coming."

"You think I'm beautiful?" Constance asked, unsure of herself. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

Lynne bit her lip nervously, and nodded. Constance turned back to the painting, trying to process. That was when she realised that the hand on the stomach was representative of where Lynne had rested her own hand that night. The only detailed part was this. Beside her Lynne allowed her to go over this all, while Lynne continued her interview. Both knew the conversation wasn't over.

While the gallery continued, Lynne had been approached by many people as they walk around the floor. Lynne never let Constance a few feet away from her, trying to keep the witch engaged in the conversations that were going on. Something that was difficult for Constance, as Constance wasn't invested in the topics. But she enjoyed staying so close to Lynne, and how Lynne was trying to keep her near and talk to her while having to work. They kept this up until Constance knew she must go back to check on Mildred. She polietely departed from Lynne's side much to her disliking. Even if she was unentertained by what was around her, she gladly endured it to be close to Lynne. But she also hadn't been able to have time to think about what Lynne had uncovered.

Finding Mildred exactly where she should be, Constance lingered back allowing the girl to converse with the group that had surrounded her. She could hear them asking questions of her art and future. Constance knew of the girls rare gift, she knew that Mildred had decided wisely. It wasn't until Constance over heard Mildred explain her exact intentions that a smile appeared across her face. Mildred had the intention of mastering her talent, learning how to perfect it, and then teach as she had skills that were unheard of. According to Mildred, she didn't feel right not learning to hone it, and that she felt it was her responsibility to share it if she could. Those around her didn't truly understand what she had meant, but Constance did. In this moment, she felt surprised but proud of her pupil. That she was wanting to learn how it worked, and to share it with their community. She would never tell Mildred this of course.

With a small smirk, she walked to the wall, not wishing to interupt Mildred. She looked around the room, her eyes finding Lynne immediately. She looked on foundly, until she caught herself. Looking away, finding the ground more suitable. Time ticked on, and Constance became consumed by her thoughts.

It wasn't worth fighting the feelings she knew harbored for Lynne. She couldn't deny it no matter how hard she tried. Doing so over the course of this next week would be nothing short of exhausting. It seemed the harder she pushed them away the more they grew. That night she so desperately wanted to kiss Lynne was the precise moment she had lost the fight and she hadn't even known it until now. 

Her feelings were too intense to pretend they weren't here. So intense that Constance could hardly bare it. By not allowing herself to process them they had somehow grown, and were now hitting her like a rouge broom in a broomstick race. And they were hitting her directly in the gut, feeling as though they made her unable to breath. The moment she felt Lynne's body against her, her hand on her stomach, and breath against her neck, it flooded her without control or direction. More so it happened without her permisson. They had scared her. She barely knew the woman. She couldn't understand them or justify them. Constance couldn't help that it was in part because she dismissed them, that if she had allow herself time to question them she might at least have some answers. The raging battle between figuring them out and pushing them bad down had not allowed any progress to happen. And even still Constance hadn't allowed herself to entertain the idea that, perhaps, Lynne could return any of her feelings.

That was until she heard Lynne call her beautiful. Her chance had gone most certainly after saying she never paid Lynne any mind. Or so she had thought. Every time she thought of Lynne since a sad loneliness filled her that she hadn't known how to handle. She had thought that she had long understood loneliness before, accepted it, but it was nothing compared to what she felt now. Seeing Lynne again, knowing Lynne had thought those things of her, it gave her hope. Hope that she shouldn't have. It wasn't wise to, but she seemed to lack all reason around the artist.

That voice in the back of her mind clawed viously. Telling her how she didn't even know love or how to love. She had never truly known it, so she couldn't properly give that sort of affection. That Lynne deserved better, more, than her and what she could offer. For Lynne's own protection, she shouldn't give into her feelings. That, at somepoint and somehow, she would hurt Lynne because didn't know how to care for someone. She didn't know how to not speak her mind, she knew she hurt people with her words often. Why would Lynne be different? This defense Constance had made to protect herself, would push Lynne away as it did everyone. And it should. Constance had fits sometimes. Fits of anxiety that could her magic to run wild, and so would her mind. Her own doubts would sometimes devour her. She supposed this was due to the high pressures her parents had placed on her. But during theses times, all the demons were no longer at bay and she had to conceal herself in her room. The very thought of hurting Lynne more made her question her own thoughts. 

Yes, she knew she couldn't deny how she felt. She wanted some kind of romantic relationship with Lynne, something more than what they currently had. But was acting on these feelings something she should do now knowing what she did? 

As much as she knew the dangers, Constance couldn't help but fight them. For the first time, she didn't want to surrender to her own fear. For the first time, Constance wanted nothing more than to be selfish. She wanted to love and be loved in return. To find the love she craved where she could see it blossoming. But she didn't want to risk the harm she knew could come. Would come. Would it be worth it? Just to have something for herself even if just for a bit. They say it is better to love and lost then never loved at all, but that was never the case with Constance. She kept wondering if this could be that case; that this seemingly once in a lifetime pull towards another could become the flame she felt still waiting within her. How she wished she could stop her mind, or, for her own sanity, be able to decide what she wanted to do with this new information.

Constance had become so engrossed in her mind, she hadn't noticed how much time had passed. It was when Mildred approached her letting her know it was nearly time to head back to the hotel, that she was pulled from her thoughts. Looking at Mildred with a puzzled expression, she hadn't understood how over two hours had gone by without her knowledge. It wasn't like her to loose track of time. Casting a quick glance to the clock, she nodded.

"It does seem to be close to that time," Constance said.

"We should go say goodnight to Miss Lamplighter before we go. I know we'll see her tomorrow, but still."

"Yes, you're quiet right," she replied reluctantly. Scanning the room for Lynne, she found her almost instantly. Lynne looked bright against the golden hues of the room, and Constance could hear her laughter from here. They walked to her, and when Lynne caught sight of them she dismissed herself from the group.

"Having fun?" Lynne asked.

"Yes!" Mildred said enthustically.

"Glad to hear."

"We are to head back to the hotel soon," Constance said.

"I thought after we could all actually get some food. I made a reservation for three, figuring it was likely someone would be coming with Mildred. As a matter of fact, I have nearly the entire week planned full."

"I commend you for thinking ahead."

"I may not seem the type, but I tend to over plan everything. I am sort of stickler for organization and such," Lynne said, surprising Constance.

"I would have not pegged you as the type."

"Well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me, Miss Hardbroom," Lynne said with a smile. "If you give me just a minute I will get everything wrapped up here, and we can go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of Constance's thoughts seem contradictory, but they're supposed to be. She knows what she wants to do but is fighting what she thinks she wants. I hope that was somewhat understandable in the chapter lol.


	5. Knowing There is More

The restaurant was eligant, which Constance didn't expect less from a fine dining establishment. They were at a round smaller table. Constance sat between Lynne and Mildred. Lynne had a chilled bottle of wine for them, with their glasses already filled. With food ordered, they began talking. The conversation mostly leaned towards the gallery, which Constance felt oddly thankful for. Mildred was disappointed how they would not be attending it every night.

"It is only customery for the artist to attend the first night, Mildred," Lynne explained. "Beside's I've got more fun things for us to do this week than to stand around looking at the same paintings all week."

"Yes, what exactly does are schedule look like?" Constance asked.

"Mostly going to museums, and going over the techniques used and such. There is a sort of carnival by the London Eye. Well, is part carnival part art festival, I thought could be fun to go to. Expose you to artist who are currently working and such."

"That sounds amazing!" Mildred exclaimed.

"I have also set up to have those that were wanting to talk with you that werent able to come tonight to have a sort of meeting with you to discuss your future and options."

"So, it is all, in one way or another, educational?" Constance asked, then took a sip of her wine.

"Wouldn't dream of making this whole holiday fun," Lynne joked. "If it is alright, my sister was interested in joining us for the fair."

"I do not see why that would be disagreeable," Constance said. She reach out to take a piece bread, at the same time Lynne did, their hands touched by accident. Constance dropped the bread, taking a sharp breath. Awkardkly, she placed her hands in her lap.

"Sorry, I didn't realise you were..." Lynne said, and placed the bread Constance dropped on Constance's plate. "There you are."

Constance gave a small smile of thanks, while Lynne grabbed a second piece for herself. Mildred eyed them curiously, but said nothing.

"What is your sister name?" Mildred asked.

"Olivia, but we all call her Oli," Lynne answered, turning her attention to intently to her bread. "She's only a year older than you, Mildred."

"Is she?" Constance asked.

"Mm hmm. She is studying Linguistics at Oxford," Lynne explained.

"Oxford?" Constance asked with awe.

"Believe it or not, I actually studied there too. Well, same university, different program. But I have my Masters in Fine Art from there," Lynne explained, pleased with her sucsess.

"Did you really?"

"Does that surprise you that I went to a high rated uni?"

"No," Constance said, trying to laugh off her own ignorance awkwardly. In the scheme of Lynne's sucess, it made perfect sense. "I supppose it doesn't. Although, I didn't take you for the university type."

Lynne looked to Constance softly. "Remember earlier how I told you about enjoying structure. What better structure is there to learn in then one of the world's top schools?"

Constance nodded with agreement. She really didn't know Lynne at all. "And are your techiques common practice?" She asked, with a tone that Lynne understood exactly what she was refuring to.

"If you mean in the context in which I tried teaching you, no," Lynne remarked, smiling broadly. "No, you were a special case and took a different techique all together. Where did you go to school?"

Constance suddently felt caught off by the question. "It was a private college, I doubt very hightly you would have heard of it," she half lied.

"A private college? Did you have your own private tutor and everything?"

"I did," Constance answered, trying not to let her voice waver at even the thought of Hekatty Broomhead. "But I would rather not discuss that."

Lynne took a second, but accepted this. She turned to Mildred. "Have you thought about what school you're going to attend?"

"I have? I already have addmission in process," Mildred answered, smiling broadly.

"What college?"

"Oh, the same one Miss Hardbroom attended," Mildred lied. Constance had attend Witch Trainging, and Mildred would be attending Weird Sister. But it was the best explaination. "I am actually double majoring to get the most knowledge of art I can."

"My, you're just trying to take on the world, aren't you?" Lynne said with a soft laugh. "What are the majors, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Um," Mildred looked to Constance for help. Constance didn't know what majors Mildred had wanted to try aside for Fine Art. With what she overheard earlier, she could presume Spellcasting or Magical Theory, as the two would be the best to have her understand her power.

"Were you telling me that Fine Art and Philosophy, wasn't it?" Constance questioned, in a hope she had mentioned something that a normal college would offer.

"Philosphy, yes," Mildred corrected. "Kind of how it relates to art."

"That's so interesting. I never thought of the two together."

"I mean, there are directly related to each other," Mildred continued. "Art makes people feel things, and can make unknown and unique things happen. I am interested in understanding that."

"Well put, Mildred," Constance said with a small sigh of relief.

Their food was delievered to them a few moments later. As they ate, they talked about Mildred idea's with her art and how it worked. Of course, Mildred was careful to not disclose the true nature of her magical art abilites, but instead talked over the ideas of bringing art to 'life' through expression and ideology. She explained that she wanted to understand the underlining process through this and how it related to how it alters reality around them. Never before had Constance heard Mildred speak so passionately or intelligently about anything. It was astounding, really, to see how much she had grown and was forming into the woman she would become. Lynne and Constance listened intently, only putting input in when they needed clarification or ideas to her expand her thoughts. Constance actually found herself enjoying the conversation, far more than she had all of the conversations she had with Mildred before.

When they finished, Lynne walked back with them to their hotel, all the way up to their room (which was a double bed as Constance didn't trust Mildred in her own room unattended). Constance insisted she didn't need to come up, but Lynne refused, explaining she was enjoying their conversation too much.

Upon arriving Lynne asked Mildred to head inside so she could talk to Constance. Constance knew exactly why. The two hadn't been truly alone to discuss what happened between the two of them. Nerves racked her. She stood awkardly in the hallway with Lynne, looking to her feet while Mildred walked into the room.

"I'm sorry," Constance said softly, looking quickly to her, "for what I said just before you left." It didn't feel right not saying so, not after such a lovely evening. Never before had she thought she could enjoy the company of Mildred. She thought this week would be disastrous, but now she wasn't sure. And how Lynne kept looking over Constance had both given her a feeling of uncertainty but understanding. It was a contradiction, she knew, yet it was how she felt. Having the artist there, talking to her so casually made Constance momentarily forget all the doubts and worries she'd had.

"I should be the one apologising, not you," Lynne countered. "What you said was passing, what I said was... Cruel."

Constance swallowed. She needed to tell her at least some extent of the truth. As much as she wanted to push her away, she couldn't, and she needed to mend what little she could. This wasn't just for the sake of this week, but for her own sanity. She looked up to the painting on the wall. She licked her lips nervously, and fiddled with her fingers.

"It wasn't right what I said. I knew it would hurt you, I wanted it to. It was wrong I know. I did it because it is easier to keep people at a distance. And as a result I lied to you." She tried to sound as pointed as she could. She was thankful her voice didn't falter. "It was wrong to do, but thought it was for the best."

"I got too close," Lynne said with realisation. "That night in your classroom, I thought that maybe... you had wanted to kiss me? Instead you rushed out as quickly as you could, then avoided me the rest of the week. You told me that you didn't even think about me. And then you turn up here and act like... I don't know. Maybe I'm just seeing things because I like you... I don't know. I'm just really confused about it all."

"I-" she cleared her throat, as it wavered. It was better just to tell her, to get it all out in the air and clear. For all of the loud alarms ringing telling her not to, she could see how confused Lynne was. She couldn't keep lying to Lynne or herself. "I did want to kiss you, that is true. But I did not mean to avoid you, at least not on purpose. Perhaps some small part of my subconscious did... I simply didn't understand what it all meant, what I was feeling. I got scared," she explained with a quiet voice. She looked to Lynne. "But I do not do this."

"What do you mean? You don't kiss people you just met, or relationships, or what?"

"Any of it," Constance stated, throwing her hands up. She was desperate, unsure of herself, something she hated being."I don't do any of it."

"I see." Lynne took a step closer to Constance, looking up to her with hopefullness. "I like you Constance, a lot. And I want to get to know you, if you'll let me."

"I can't," Constance said, but the words didn't match her tone.

"I at least want to see where it could go. But I understand if you don't want to."

"It's not that I don't want to, Lynne. I can't. I don't know how. It will only end in me hurting you," Constance said.

"You can't know that." Lynne raised her hand, resting it on Constance arm. "And even if you somehow did, I would risk that, just for a chance to even kiss you."

Constance took a sharp breath at the confession. She wanted risk everything for this too. She knew she couldn't fight this, no matter how much she knew she should. It was breaking her trying. She didn't want to fight it, knowing the possibilities.

Not allowing herself to think about it any longer, or allowing herself to doubt, she closed the distance between the two. Their lips pressed firmly against each other with a yearning Constance carried since they'd first met. It had been so long since she had kissed someone, she almost forgot what it felt like. That was obviously excluding the mishap last term, which she didn't count. Kissing Lynne was magificent. Her lips were soft, her hands, now on Constance's face, even softer. It was gentle, new. Constance wrapped her arms around Lynne's waist, pulling her closer. 

The two broke apart when a loud, almost wet sounding, crash came from inside the room with a surprised scream accompanying it. Constance quickly turned away, opening the door, and found Mildred standing on the opposite side of Constance's now completely soaked bed. There was a large hole in the ceiling where water from the floor above was still pouring into the room. Constance raised her hand to stop the water, that seemingly was coming from a burst pipe the floor above if she was seeing correctly. Then she recalled Lynne was right behind her and lowered her hand.

"What happened?!" She demanded from Mildred, knowing somehow the girl had a part in it.

"I don't know! I was just sitting, watching tellie, when I heard a loud crack. When I turned to look for it the ceiling fell through!" Mildred explained in a desperate hope for her teacher to believe her. Constance looked at the evidence. The television was on, with the guide channel pulled up. The remote was on the floor, and Mildred was on the other side of the bed in a clear panic. Constance huffed, accepting the girls story. This really had just been a case of unfortunate events.

"You guys can't stay here. Even if they did have another room, it doesn't seem likely they'll have running water," Lynne explained, eyeing the water that was flowing in like a waterfall.

"And where do you suggest we stay?" Constance asked rhetorically.

"I've a cot and couch, if you don't mind? That is if you want?" Lynne asked Constance.

"It seems we haven't a better choice. Mildred, if you gather our things while I speak with the manager."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this one isn't as edited as my last ones. I'm still trying to write the last few chapters and proof read before posting. However, I suffer from chronic migraines and pain and it has been very hard to work, and even function really, let alone proof read. And to top it my dyslexia has been acting up worse due to sheer exhaustion. Because I have most of the chapters written already I am still going to keep the post schedule if I can. Hopefully they will go away and I will be able to finish the story. I just wanted you guys to know that if the chapters seem unedited that is why and the last few chapters might fall off schedule. I am feeling better today, so hopefully by tomorrow it will be gone or at least better and I can be better with what I'm writing and editing. Again thank you to everyone who is reading.


	6. Studies in French

Lynne opened the door to her flat, allowing them to enter. Constance felt her nerves had frayed. She was now in the home of the woman who just an hour ago had kissed. The feeling of worry couldn't be avoided. She knew she would mess this up. How or when she didn't know, but it was inevitable. She was cursing herself giving in against her better judgement. This wouldn't be the first case of this, but she had stopped trying to please people long ago. After her parents and a few previous relationships, she swore she wouldn't give in so simply. It had been effective, and she felt happy for not giving into things she didn't want. She wanted Lynne though, she could only assume that was why a few kind words had been the cause of logics defeat.

There was a young woman sitting on the couch, several books spread about her writing and working intently. She was what Constance beleaved was called 'Grunge' with her black ripped jeans, a green cargo jacket and loose band shirt. Her hair was jet black, and chopped roughly to her chin. She didn't look up, as she spoke.

"Doing a paper," she explained briefly. "Sorry about the couch. I'll be here most of the night."

"Oli, we have company," Lynne explained. "They'll be staying with us for the week." Olivia looked up, pushing her glasses up. Constance nosed the nose ring, and grimaced. Olivia tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling awkwardly.

"Oh, now I'm even more sorry about the mess," she apologised. "I would say that I'd clean up but I have my a big paper due next week and I'm still struggling with some of these words, and I keep missing things I know for a fact I know!"

"Your presentation?" Lynne asked, grabbing Constance's bag off her shoulder. Constance of course would have had it on her broom, but their brooms were safely hidden for a moment until she could summon them here to hide in a safe place.

"As always," Olivia groaned.

"I'm sorry, what are you referring to?" Constance asked, casting a quick glance to Lynne. Mildred sat down as Lynne gestured to the chair.

"We have to present our papers to the, even though I know the material because my performance anxiety gets me so bad that I just blank. I forget how to speak even, let alone all the words and points if my paper. Ironically, I'm so scarred of failure, I fail. It's a vicious cycle," she laughed.

"That sounds horrible," Mildred said.

"It is. So, I'm hoping that if I hammer it in to the point where physically cannot forget it'll help," Olivia said, half joking. "Olivia," she introduced.

"Mildred, and this is my teacher Miss Hardbroom," Mildred introduced.

"Prehaps I could be of assistance," Constance said, looking over the books.

"How?" Olivia said.

"If you can wait for us to settle, I could assist in quizing you," Constance commented. "Maybe repeating some of the your paper from helping could assist in your presentation."

"Yes, but the entire thing has to be presented in French."

"That will not be a problem."

"You know French, Miss Hardbroom?" Mildred asked.

"Qui," Constance said, sarcastically. "I am highly frequent in it, in fact. It is my native language, as I was born there. My parents immigated to England when I was still a child."

"I didn't know any of that."

"And why, pray tell, would you?" She saw Mildred shrug.

"Why don't you help me?" Mildred asked.

"Because I am your teacher and that would be cheating," Constance replied as if it were obvious. Mildred rolled her eyes.

"Would it be okay if we set the cot in your room?" Lynne asked.

"Yea, should be room beside my bed. Where is she gonna sleep?" Olivia asked, pointing to Constance.

"She was going to sleep on the couch, but knowing you'll be hording it all week..." Lynne trailed off, looking to Constance. "Would it be horrible to say I have a king, more than enough room for two."

Constance felt her eyes grow wide. Suggesting the two share a bed put a flood of ideas in Constance's head. None of which she was sure she was comfortable with. She crossed her arms, thanking she had brought her stock of wide awake potion. She wouldn't sleep much this week anyway, as she normally didn't. She slept most nights, but only an hour or two at most, and three hours each night on the weekends. Perhaps she could pretend to sleep until Lynne did and get back up.

"I suppose, if it is all that is available," Constance said. Lynne smile faltered just slightly. If Constance hadn't been watching Lynne closely, she doubted she would have caught it. She had said something that upset her, of course she had. She always did that sort of thing. But she couldn't understand what. Surely, Lynne must see the situation was akward as to go from sharing a kiss to sharing a bed in such a short span of time.

"Right," Lynne said, not showing her disappointement. "Well, help me get it set up, yea?"

Constance nodded, and went to help. They set up the cot quickly in Olivia's room, a room full of band posters but was clean. Then they went to Lynne's room, with bags in tow. Lynne set Constance's bag down on the long dresser as Constance looked around. The room was all red with a white ceiling. A large four post bed was in the center, with various scarfs hanging from it. Along the walls were multiple paintings placed with purpose. Her easle sat near the sliding glass door with a painting started, but Constance couldn't figure out what it was.

"Sorry you have to share a bed with me," Lynne said, sadly. She stayed turned to the mirror on the dresser as she took off her earrings.

"Sorry?" Constance asked.

"If it is all that available?" Lynne asked, turning around to look around. She gripped the dresser behind her. It was clear the comment had upset her.

"I didn't mean..." Constance looked down. "We only just..." She fell short again. She squeezed her eyes closed her eyes. She wanted to retreat back out the door behind her. The knob was still within reach. No, she needed to make a point to Lynne. "This is preicly what I am refuring to! I haven't the slightest clue how!"

The sound of quick movement coming towards her, jarred Constance. She looked up to find Lynne standing directly in front of her. Lynne who was looking at her with soft, apologetic eyes, and took her balled hands into her own.

"I'm sorry. I didn't even think. I should have asked before just assuming," Lynne said. "That is something I need to work on. And when it comes to you, even more so."

"I... what do you mean?"

"In order for us to have a chance, communication is going to vital. If you say something or anything that upsets me, that I know I have to come and talk to you before jumping to conclusions about what you mean or the tone you had."

Constance looked at her with confusion. No one had ever told her something like this, or even offered it. Usually people would come to their own conclusions about her, they never tried to understand. They never took the time.

"And what happens the day I do say something mean that you don't like?" She could feel tears threatening her eyes. She wasn't sure if they were from what Lynne had already said, or fear from what she might. 

"Then I get to be upset, whether your right or wrong," Lynne said with a small laugh. "And then I calm down, and give you a sweet forgiving kiss. So do you if I say something. Promise me that you'll come to me if I do. And I promise you I will." 

"I promise," Constance said with slight nod. Her voice seemed so small, entirely unlike her.

Lynne leaned in smiling softly. Constance felt her heart racing again. This time Lynne kissed her, and it was as sweet and forgiving as she promised. She pulled away, leaving Constance by the door. Constance couldn't help the silly grin on her face, replacing her nerves. 

Lynne shifted, putting some things away. "As for the whole sharing a bed thing, it doesn't mean we have to do anything."

"Do you mean that?"

Lynne stopped at Constance's question. She looked to Constance curiously, almost as if she were trying to read her. "Of course I mean it. I would never try to presure anyone into doing something they didn't want. And I like you Constace, a lot. If you want to share something intamite with me, I want it because you want it and are comfortable with me."

Constance nodded sharply. Then she rushed to her luggage. "I will get on my nightware, then assist your sister."

"Okay," Lynne said. She watched Constance gather her things and rush out of the room. 

Once through the door, she realised she didn't know where the bathroom was. Down the hall, looking back into the living room, Constance could see Mildred sitting in the chair with her book in hand, studying. She looked around the walls. There were three doors, one had to be the bathroom. She tried the one the fartherest on her right, and was thankful to discover her guess had been correct. She stepped into the bathroom, setting her belongings on the vanity.

One by one, Constance removed the pins from her hair. The braid came tumbling down, but still was held up by it's elastic. Pulling it from it's place, she felt the tension she carried most days releaved. With practiced hands, she unwound the braid. Brushing her fingers through it out, she savored the ease in her scalp. Putting it in it's half do so she could still read without it falling in the way. She, then, slipped her shoes off.

She found herself looking in the mirror as unbuttoned her gown. Normally, she didn't watch herself undress. In fact, she couldn't recall the last time she had seen herself naked in a mirror. As she pushed the material down her arms, she closed her eyes. She wondered what it would feel like if Lynne were the one doing this, wondering if she would like what she never had before if it was Lynne doing it She pushed the gown past her hips, and opened her eyes. Slidding off her bra felt freeing. She leaned down, slowly pushing each stocking down. She folded each garment until they sat beside her nightwear.

Looking at herself in the mirror. Constance examed herself. Her hands gently tracing over her soft skin. Her features fuller in some areas then she would like. Her breast no longer as high as they used to. Her skin was ghostly pale, with faded stretch marks still visible. She had several scars along her body from various potion incidents. One was long running along her side where she had fallen off her broom her third year. She swallowed harshly, closing her eyes. Would Lynne even like this side of her? Would she want her underneath it all? Did she want Lynne to that extent herself? She felt becoming more and more consumed by how exposed she was, how truly bare. In this state Constance was at her most volnerable. She wondered if she even could allow Lynne to see this. 

Quickly, Constance dressed in her pajamas, and threw her black robe over them. She washed her face, cleaning it of all makeup. When she finished, she looked back to her her pile of clothing. Constance didn't want to go back into the room with Lynne, not yet. But she most certaintly did not want to leave the clothing in the bathroom, with Mildred more than likely to come in before morning. Pointing her fingers at it, she magicked it back into her luggage. As long as no one asked, no one would have been the wiser she had used magic at all, as she had been instructed to this trip. Taking one final glance in the mirror, she walked out and down in the living area where Olivia had already cleared a spot for Constance to sit.

Olivia handed her the paper to Constance, so Constance could look at what she had written to go over. While Constance went over it, Olivia got the three tea. By the time Olivia came back from the kitchen, Constance had gone through the paper with ease. Much to Mildred's annoyance they began talking only in French, leaving Mildred out completely.

"What is she studying?" Olivia asked, handing Constance her tea. Constance hummed a soft thank you. "That textbook looks ancient."

Constance glanced at the book in Mildred hand: Chanting for Intermidate Witches. She turned her attention to her tea. "Music and it's affects on it's environment," Constance explained before sipping her tea.

"She is studying that for her A Levels? What does that even mean?"

"We are progressive school, more or less," Constance explained, picking the cards back up after setting the tea down.

"I'd say so," Olivia commented, looking at Mildred for a few seconds. Olivia turned her attention back to Constance. "Thank you for doing this. You didn't have to."

"I haven't anything better to do," Constance said, even though she knew it was a lie. She knew she shouldn't have walked out on Lynne, but she needed a moment. And she had already agreed to this, and it distracted her.

Constance went on to help Olivia for several hours. Mildred went to bed about an hour in, making sure to take her book with her. It was when Olivia couldn't stop yawning that she knew to call it for the night. She didn't want to be so tired she missed class. While Olivia was shutting off the lights Constance thought. She knew she had to also return to the room, but felt nervous to do it. Hoping Lynne was asleep, she made her way back.

The room was nearly dark when she entered. The only light was a soft light in the peeking behind the curtains amd into the room. Constance sent a quick cast out, quickly illuminating the room to see where Lynne was laying. In doing this though, she had woken Lynne.

"Hello?" Lynne asked, in a sleepy haze.

"It's just me," Constance said softly, slipper her house shoes off. Making her way to the bed, Constance laid down careful not to disturb Lynne more, hoping Lynne would fall back asleep. She faced Lynne.

"Constance?" Lynne's voice was still tired. It was the first time she had called Constance by her first name truly.

"Yes." Constance shifted, moving her arm under her pillow in an attempt to get compfortable.

A quiet shuffling could be heard, followed by movement of the bed let Constance know Lynne was moving closer. Lynne stopped close enough for Constance to feel Lynne's breath. She felt Lynne's hand searching for something. When it found Constance's hand, it stopped. It wrapped around her own carefully, causing Constance heart skip.

"I'm so glad you're here," Lynne said, falling back asleep. The comment pulled Constance's lips into a gentle smile. No she would only sleep little tonight, but having Lynne beside her made her feel like she almost could. Maybe sleeping wouldn't be so bad Lynne near. Instead, Constance just savoured of having her near.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the number of chapters, because as I was revising I thought I might want to add another chapter. I'm not sure yet though. 
> 
> Also, there is nothing in French because I speak probably less French then a three year old. But I kind of wanted a nod to Kate. I'm also still have a bad migraine but it's better. I apologize for any mistakes though.


	7. A Greater Tragedy

Constance woke to the smell of bacon and coffee. Sitting up, she looked around the brightly lit room. Lynne was already awake, she concluded upon finding the spot beside her empty. She looked to the alarm clock on the side of the bed: 7am. Not only had she slept several hours, and peacefully at that, she had also slept in much later than she normally did. She was always awake by 5am. Pulling herself out of bed, she dressed herself quickly.

Stepping out of the room, she made her way to the living area where she found everyone else still in their pajamas. She opened her mouth to tell Mildred she should have been dressed, when Lynne entered with a plate of toast. Constance words caught in her mouth upon seeing the woman in a nothing but a long oversized t-shirt that nearly reached her knees. Had she worn that to sleep?

"Breakfast," Lynne said with a large smile. "Then off we all get."

Constance remained silent, not sure how to respond. Nodding sharply she took her seat between Lynne and Mildred. As Constance made her plate, she found herself struggling from keeping her attention focused souly on Lynne. Lynne who sitting crossed legged at the table, hunched over in a inappropriate manner. In normal circumstances, Constance would have scolded for anyone in such a way, but found herself in awe. The way Lynne pulled her hair over her shoulder to keep from her food as she took a bite. She looked to Olivia in an attempt to change her attention to something, anything, else.

"Do you think your better prepared for your presentation?" She asked Olivia.

"I think so. I can't thank you enough for all your help last night," Olivia said with a smile.

"You are most welcome. I rather enjoyed it. It has been some time since I talked in French," Constance admitted, filling the tea cup that had been set out for her with water from the kettle. "Did your studying go well last night, Mildred?"

"Eh," Mildred confessed. "You're class better than Miss Crotche's. Her class isn't the easiest to study. Least yours is a text book, and is outlined. Difficult at times to remember, but easier then practicing music in your head. I know your not too big on her class, but it would help a lot if you could help me seeing as your not my teacher in that class, and the only one that can actually help?"

Constance sighed, hating how Mildred was right. How could she expect Mildred to study without her properly practicing the chants. She was never fond of chanting, but she had brought this on herself with helping Olivia last night, and asking the question she had. "I cannot think of a reason not to," Constance said, begrudgingly.

"Thank you!" Mildred said, excited. Constance grimaced slightly at the thought.

"So, you guys are going to The National Gallery today?" Olivia asked. Lynne hummed, confirming to Constance where they would be spending the day.

"The National Gallery today, Tate Britain tomorrow," Lynne explained. Constance hummed her approval, taking a bit of her toast.

"Wish I could go," Olivia groaned.

"You'll survive," Lynne joked. "You've got your classes, far to much to focus on then going to museums."

"I know, which is exactly why I want to go," Olivia joked, only half serious. She groaned, looking at the time. "Speaking of which, I should get ready and head off," she said, all but shoving the rest of her food in her mouth and went off to her room.

"You'd think a pig taught her manners," Lynne said with a laugh. "I know my aren't the best, but she makes me look like a proper lady." Mildred laughed softly, and Constance felt a small tug of her own lips.

After they finished eating, they quickly cleaned up. Lynne and Mildred disappeared into the rooms to ready themselves. Constance was now standing near the bookshelf in the common area. She was looking over the books. Several were art education books, which didn't surprise her. The ones that did were the many books on multiple topics. Some of which Constance had never heard of. She picked up a book that she could assume was Olivia's. It was written in Japanese, and Constance couldn't understand a word of it but loved the design of the book. She thought of casting a translation spell, but thought better of it at the risk of being caught.

She was glad she had as she heard soft footprints behind her. Setting the book in it's place, she turned to find Lynne there smiling softly.

"Find anything you like?" Lynne asked.

"I was simply looking. Though the one on Astology piqued my interest," Constance answered. Lynne reached down, taking Constance's hand.

"You like Astology?"

"Not so much. It has it's uses, but isn't really my taste," Constance explained.

"I didn't think it would be. Although, I must confess that I am surprised you're interested in it at all."

"There are many things that you do not know about me."

"I can't wait to learn them," Lynne said, making Constance feel that heat in her cheeks again. How this woman had the ability to make Constance Hardbroom blush over such small comments, was a mystery to her. "You're adorable when you blush."

This caused Constance to blush further. She couldn't ever recall being called adorable before. She squeezed Lynne's hand, and went to lean in to kiss her again when they heard the door open. Constance cleared her throat, and stepped back as Mildred rushed down the hallway.

"Don't run, Mildred!" She corrected, more out of annoyance at being disrupted than actually at the girl.

"Sorry, Miss Hardbroom. We ready?" Mildred asked, excited to go.

"I believe so," Constance said, removing her hand from Lynne's. She followed the others out of the flat to her car.

The museum had many great art pieces, many more that were in Constance's taste then the gallery last night. She stopped in front of the piece entiled Three Witches, and it was three witches in 18th century clothing around a cauldron. She found herself starring at it. Lynne stood beside her, allowing her to take in the piece before her with her own thoughts. Mildred noticed them, standing a few feet away.

"Fair is foul, and foul is fair;  
Hover through the fog and filthy air," Constance heard, causing her to look Mildred who was stepping closer to the painting. It was Mildred who had spoke, she realised.

"Did you just quote Macbeth?" Lynne asked.

"You've read Macbeth?" Constance asked at the same time. The book wasn't on their curriculum. That would mean Mildred read it on her own time, surprising Constance. What surprised her more was that Mildred was able to identify the witches in the painting before Constance had.

Mildred nodded, smiling softly. "I love Macbeth, it's one of my favourites. Definitely my favourite of Shakespeare. And yes, HB. I love learning everything about them. It so nice to see them painted liked this, normally the Weird Sister's look all horrid in paintings."

"That's who these are?" Lynne asked, looking closer to it.

"It is," Constance agreed. 

"Did you know they were actually women who actually lived," Mildred explained.

"Were they? How do you know?"

"They're sort of a part of history where we come from," Mildred explained. "The three sisters who were said to be just as gifted as the Fates. They led a king. They changed history, and were highly reviered by the people who knew them. The private college I am going to attend was built by them. That's why I choose it, because I love their history so much," Mildred said with pride. "This painting is probably the closest thing to how they actually looked."

"It is?"

"They were said to be of great beauty," Constance added. "In fact, it was reknown throughout the entire British Isles of their beauty and talent. They set forth the very world that those who followed the same path as them still follow today. They were pioneers."

"That amazing! I didn't know they did all that. I mean, they're only a few lines in the play," Lynne said with surprise.

"They did so much, Miss Lamplighter. More than what we just said. They were incredible," Mildred explained. "Especially with who and what they were in their time."

"What? That they were real witches?" Lynne said as a joke. Constance looked to Mildred, glarring at her.

"Well, people were accused of witchcraft a lot during that time," Mildred said. "They said they were, allowed Shakepeare to write about them without even changing their name. That by itself was a huge risk. But they didn't care, and didn't apologise. I think that's highly commendable. Besides they were more than just simple witches, they were prophets. Everyone thinks they wished to bring trouble and chaos, when in really they were the harbengers of light for many of those who identified as witches, protecting them really. Some say that this happened because the Fates grew envious of their power and turned the world against them. I don't believe that though. It was the foolish mortal man, who they saw danger and became scarred. He manipulated what he heard into evil. It was not what the witches themselves said. A vial man who caused witch hunts because he feared what he didn't understand."

Mildred really did know a lot about them, Constance thought with an almost baffled smirk. She kept finding herself in awe with her this week. She was happy that Mildred had decided the college she had more now, knowing that it was best for the girl. The school had briefly covered their history, mostly in potions and spellcasting history. Now that she recalled, Mildred had aced every question involving them.

"What were there names?" Lynne asked.

"Flora, Lorna, and Clara Weyward of the Ancient Woods," Constance said, looking over the painting again. "Flora was the oldest," Constance pointed to the only witch in black. "She was what gave the sterotype of witches wearing black. After the death of her husband Rauel, who was hung for witchcraft, she mourned the rest of her life. She, then, lost their son in a fire by witch hunters. Unable to the bear the loss of their only child, she claimed her own life. Something that was not easy, and had to be done with great intent. After this, Lorna and Clara wore black for the rest of the long lives. They created the school in honor of their fallen sister. A safe haven for those to learn and not be pursicuted for such silly things such as witchcraft. It held the uniform of black for hundereds of years in mourning of the death of all three sisters, and any sisters who were punished for crimes they should not have been. But having been accused of witchcraft, it set forth precedence the idea that all witches wear black that is still believed today."

"That's so sad."

"A greater tradgey then Macbeth," Constance agreed. She turned to Lynne, who looked devistated at finding this out. "Might we continue to the next painting?" She recommended, knowing she could spend hours talking about the life and history of the Weird Sisters. She assumed Mildred ciuld as well.

They spent the next half hour going from room to room to look at the paintings. Constance hadn't realised when Mildred had broken off, until she turned to ask Mildred a question that she found she was no longer by her side. She excused herself from Lynne's side, and found Mildred the next room over starring at a painting of a women standing near a well.

"Mildred," Constance asked, trying to keep an even tone. While Constance had to admit, it was beautiful and masterfully done, she couldn't understand why she was so invested in it. 

"I'm sorry for wondering off," she remarked. 

"Yet you did."

"I just... Don't understand," Mildred said.

"Understand what?" Constance asked, not understanding what Mildred meant at all.

"Will people always see us that way. Like gross witches," she said. "I know it's a sterotype, but I often think about it." 

"I don't know," Constance said. Mildred hadn't been really looking the painting but had been lost in thought. "I find myself thinking about it often too. I suppose all we can do is be our best."

"But from a distance, in secret. What good does that do when everyone thinks we aren't real. We can be perfect, but they wouldn't know that witches are just like them. It isn't fair. That we have to hide who we are. That I have a gift, I can only share with a select few. No one should have to hide who they are."

Constance sighed, and sat on the bench in front of the painting. After instructing Mildred to do the same, she turned towards her. She wasn't sure how to approach this, as she had personally never had to have this conversation before. Even if she did think about it often, more often lately with Lynne in her life.

"Mildred, the masses knowing about could be dangerous. You just told the story of that. I don't see how you don't understand this." Constance had, somehow, been able to keep her tone even. She could see how deeply this troubled Mildred. It had troubled her too, and she still believed it was unjust and fair.

"Why do some get to know and others don't?"

"You mean Miss Drill?" Constance asked. Mildred nodded. "Some people are fortunate enough to pass the council's trial to ensure all of our safety."

"Some probably outdated test determines who is safe with the information?"

"More like who isn't likely to reveal it. The others then never even recall us."

"We live in a different time though. There is no way to know that it is still dangerous," Mildred tried. 

"That isn't a risk we can afford to take, Mildred."

"You can't honestly tell me if Miss Lamplighter found out that you would want to erase her memory of you, can you?"

Constance felt a tightness in her throat, the truth thick in it. She looked down to her hands. Of course she didn't want to. If Lynne was serious, they would have to go through the council to get the approval that she could know. But in that alone she could cause loose her memory if they denied her request. The thought shook her deeply. All of her personal insecurities aside, that was the most terrifying part. That one day Lynne could look on her and have no idea who she was. It wasn't fair, Mildred was right. In fact, it was a horrific thing. Constance had long thought this, but understood. For the protection of them it was how it had to be. Imogen had done it, and so had Mr Blossom. Lynne, if it came down to it, would have to. It was the only way to keep them all safe.

Constance hated keeping something that more or less defined her from Lynne though. It didn't feel right. Constance didn't even know what they were but that didn't matter. She knew that if she presued it, which she wanted, that eventually Lynne would find out she was a witch. It was inevitable. She would wait until then, and only then, she decided. 

"You wouldn't," Mildred said softly. Constance looked up, tears threatening her eyes. It was then that Mildred had realised how deeply the question affected her. "You look terrified."

Constance cleared her throat, blinking away her fears. "This isn't an appropriate conversation."

"All I was doing was asking a question. I didn't mean to make personal, honest," Mildred defended. 

"And yet, that is exactly what it became."

"I'm sorry, Miss Hardbroom, I—"

"—We should find Lynne," she said sharply. She stood and began walking away without checking to see if Mildred was in tow. She could only hope that when she saw Lynne her concern would ease again, as they seemed to before. She was thankful to find this was the case, at least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I decided to write lore about the Weird Sisters. Think it was to show the parallels between them and kind of what's going through Constance's mind.


	8. Like a Sleepover

The feeling of the room was relaxed when Constance entered. She had changed into her nightwear. Her garmnets still in her hand, she turned to where her luggage laid on top of the dresser. Setting her things inside, she caught Lynne looking at her from where she sat on her bed. Similing softly, Constance looked down, hoping to hide her blush, but knew she hadn't. Regardless of all concerns, being around Lynne had made her feel like a giddy girl.

"Mildred is in the room for the night, studying," Constance said, turning around but remained at the dresser.

"As she should," Lynne agreed, knowing Constance liked when someone agreed.

Constance leaned back slightly, looking over the bed. Her nerves about sharing it growing rapidly again. She attempted to not let them show and not let them get the better of her. Last night had been easy. Lynne was alreay asleep when she came in. Though, she must admit to her surprise at sleeping through the night. Tonight, Lynne expected to fall asleep beside her. Olivia was spending a better part of her night in the University Library, revising, taking away Constance's out. She would have no other option than to lay in bed until Lynne fell asleep, then get back up until she was ready for bed herself, if she even slept at all tonight.

"I enjoyed today," Constance said, trying to distract her mind. She fought the urge to cross her arms. She had forced herself to push her and Mildred's conversation to the back of her mind. If she didnt she worried the thought would have consumed her. She had decided last night she wanted to try when they kissed what her choice was. Being reminded of all the things that could go wrong would only worsen her anxiety. 

"I did too. I learned a lot," Lynne said. "All that stuff about the Weird Sisters. It was really interesting. I can't believe I never knew any of it."

"It isn't common knowledge," Constance explained. "There are many things about my culture that are quiet different then yours."

"Your culture?" Lynne questioned, confused. "You make it sound like aren't English?"

"That isn't what I meant." Constance unfolded her arms now, scolding herself inwardly for her careless language. "I only meant, I was raised in a different environment, as was Mildred. Our school, our culture, isn't of that as your standard Englishman. We learn things very differently."

Lynne looked at her for a few moments curiously before standing. She walked over to Constance, making Constance blink at the sudden closeness of them. "You know you can tell me what ever you want. I don't understand how your upbringing and mine could have been to different, given I lived the town over, but I will take your word for it. And if you want to talk to me about it you can," Lynne said to reassure her.

"I can't," Constance said. "Inviting you to the school at all was a risk, us being here is one." 

Constance hated having to explain this. She didn't want to keep it from Lynne. But she also didn't want the horrible parts of it affecting it either. At least as long as she could. She knew it was foolish, trying to have her cake and eat it too.

"Well, if you ever decide to, you can," Lynne said taking Constance's hands, bring both their arms down. "I loved learning all of that stuff, and I love learning more about you." Lynne looked closely at Constance as she ran her thumb over the back of Constance's hand. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" Lynne asked.

Constance felt herself melting at the question. More often than not, those around her didn't take into consideration how she felt. They would act without any regard for her. When Constance would respond to those actions, it was only then that they thought of her, and then became upset with how she reacted. If they had asked her first, she would have a lot less bad responses. Squeezing Lynne's hand softly in her own, she shook her head.

"No," she answered. "Quiet the opposite in fact. Nervous, yes. But I find myself more comfortable with you than others."

Lynne smiled and nervously bit her lip. Constance saw her glance at Constane's lips. Lynne tilted her haid, and asked, "Then, can I kiss you?"

Constance almost felt like crying. Every moment she was around Lynne, she found herself experencing new and different things she hadn't known before about herself. Each question Lynne asked, taking her into account and making sure Constance was alright with what Lynne wanted, made her feel lighter. The fears she had still lingered, she doubted they would go away. However, the overwhelming sense of security and warmth that Constance felt over powered them.

"Yes," she whispered.

Lynne's smile grew wider, and she leaned forward to kiss Constance deeply. Constance hummed, moving her lips in tandem with Lynne's. Constance moved her hands around Lynne, pulling her close. One of Lynne's arms moved around Constance, bracing herself on the dresser behind her, the other rest on Constance's hip. Their bodies now pressed flushed against another. Accidentaly Constance knocked the glass constainer Lynne's makeup powder was it to the floor. The glass shattered upon contact, sending a large of powder into the air, and broke the two apart. Looking down at the mess, they heard a soft knock at the door. Constance's attention quickly shot to the door, knowing precisiely who it was and why. 

Casting a quick glance to Lynne who nodded. Crossing over to the door, Lynne opened it finding exactly she knew it would be on the other side. Of course it was Mildred, she was the only one in the flat. Mildred looked at her teacher with confusion.

"Is everything alright? I heard a crash?" Mildred asked, concerned. Constance didn't know what to say. Fear was now taken over by embrassement. Mildred had heard them. Instead, she froze. Standing still, with her hand on the handle. "Miss Hardbroom?"

"Miss Hardbroom stubbed her toe is all, knocked something off my dresser" Lynne lied, walking up to them. "And I need to get the broom."

Constance looked to Lynne, who had been smiling softly to her. Constance stepped aside so Lynne could get what she need to. Constance shook from her thoughts, and released the door.

"You can go back to bed, Mildred," Constance told her pointedly, but it lacked it's edge due to her mental state. Mildred nodded awkwardly, and set off.

Constance walked back to the bed. Covering her face she wasn't able to collect her thoughts. They felt scrambled. Part of what she catch was what they might had done had she knocked the container over. She had been fine, happy before they stopped. It didn't make sense she wasn't now. The other thought that seemed to almost paralise her in fear was if she was comfortable with it having developed the way she thought it could have. Lynne must have wanted her in that way. An odd feeling sat like a rock in her stomach thinking about it. Something she wasn't sure to make of.

Lynne entered, finding Constance with her head in her hands. Lynne set the broom and duster aside, walking up to Constance. She knelt before Constance, and rested her hands on her knees.

"Hey, you okay?" Lynne asked. Constance looked up, clearly distressed.

"Yes, just... I don't know," Constance looked up to her. Her nerves scratching beneath the surface again. If she hadn't broken the container, she couldn't stop thinking about what could have happened. "I think perhaps we should go to bed."

Lynne stood, sitting beside Constances. "I made you uncomfortable didn't I?"

"Of sorts," Constance confessed. "But it isn't your fault. It wasn't the kiss... I can't even really place why."

"It's okay, you don't need to know why to know you aren't. And you certainly don't need to justify it to me for any reason. Thank you for telling me though," Lynne said smiling. She placed her hand over Constance's, soothing her nerves gently. "I'll clean up, and then we just can talk until we fall asleep," Lynne suggested, trying to calm her.

"Talk?"

"About anything. Thought it might be nice."

Constance gave a small nod. Lynne patted Constance's knee before turning clean the mess that had been made. She cleaned it quickly. Constance noticed her falter slightly, the motions catching her attention. The moment Constance looked over, Lynne resumed, then left the room to ride of it. When she returned Constance was still sitting awkwardly on the bed, now looking at her hands.

Constance listened as Lynne walked to the side of the bed she preferred, and laid down. Constance turned to her, raising her leg onto the bed to do so.

"What did you want to talk about?" Constance asked.

"Get comfortable first."

Constance sighed, but followed the instructions she was given. She moved up the best, laying on her side facing Lynne. The intamcy of the situation was new to Constance, she had never been in a situation like this, platonically or not. Lynne could sense this. This came to no surprise to Constance, as Lynne seemed to be hyper aware of when something was foriegn to her, or made her anxious. Gently, Lynne trailed her finger tips along Constance's arm. At first Constance tensed at this. Lynne pulled her hand away, noticing, and gently settled it between them.

"Would it help to think that you were at a sleepover?" Lynne suggested. 

"I never went to one," Constance stated blankly. Lynne brow's gathered.

"Never?"

Constance shook her head. This didn't bother her. She didn't have many friends growing up. Frankly she thought the idea of them ridiculous, even then. It never hurt her that no one invited her. She could use her time more wisely. "Never. I didn't mind though..." She thought for a moment. "But it might help my nerves to consider this as such, now."

"Okay, then we can do that." Lynne shifted slightly, to get more comfortable.

"We are just meant to lay here talking?"

"Basically," Lynne said, smiling. "What better way to learn more about one another?"

"I suppose. Do you want to start?"

"Alright. Did you always want to be a teacher?"

"You mean, did I always want to teach ungrateful children that pretend to listen to me? The same girls who talk about me behind my back as if I do not have ears. I always dreamed of it," she answered sarcastically. This caused Lynne to laugh. And Lynne's laugh created her own smile. "No. I never even intented on being a teacher, actually. It just turned out that way."

"How so?"

"When I graduated, I had been offered a job at a research facility in Leicester. It was my dream job, really. However, life seemed to have other plans. The man I was meant to replace ended up not retiring. I was in my mid 20s, and homeless as I couldn't afford the flat I was meant to rent. Fresh out of college, with no where to go."

"You couldn't move back in with your parents?"

Constance laughed at the notion. "Absolutely not. They would never allowed it even if I had asked. I needed to find something, and quick. I caught word that Cackle's was looking for a teacher in exactly my field. I got the job, and have been there since."

"Have you ever thought of leaving. Maybe even trying to persue your dream again?"

Constance shrugged, awkwardly due to her position. "I did a few years ago. Amelia had plans for the school that I was completely against. Thankfully, she didn't follow through with them. I didn't want to leave though. I've been there almost 16 years. It's my home." Lynne smiled gently to her. Her eyes were warm, sparkling. This confused Constance. "What?"

"You. You're quiet sentimental, aren't you?"

"I've never thought myself so," Constnace stated.

"No, I don't think you would."

"What does that mean?"

"You don't see yourself, not really." Constance squinted, and shifted. Tucking the pillow so she could see Lynne clearer. "You're the type to try and keep sentiment away, but really you are at heart. It is just that don't realise when you are," Lynne said. "Like you don't want to, but pull from it. Find comfort in it." Constance thought for a moment, going over what she had just been told.

"I suppose that could be the case," she said, shifting so that her hand rested under her hand. "What about you? Did you always want to be an artist?"

"Most of my life, yes. I've been very fortunate to be able to make a living in it. Although, there was a bit of time that I wanted to be a ballerine," Lynne said. Constance couldn't help the small laugh that came from her. Lynne scoffed, and pushed Constance teesingly. Constance tried, and failed, and containing her smile. "Hey, I was five, okay? I think we're all allowed silly dreams then. I took classes and everything."

Constance bit her lip, but still smiled. Giving in to her smile, and gave a soft "Sorry."

Lynne joined her. "It's fine. I'm just messing with you. It was quiet funny, actually. I have about much grace as a chicken with it's head cut off. Lost my front tooth at 6 because I face planted during my recital," she explained, laughing at the memory. Constance laughed as well, loving how she felt comfortable doing so around Lynne. The sounds echoed in the room, like a soft lullaby.

"Were you alright at least? Aside from the tooth?"

"That time, yes. Broke my arm thinking I could do the move from Dirty Dancing with my 5 year old dance partner." Constance found herself in a fit of laughter as she tried to picture it. The young Lynne and the poor boy who had tried to catch her. She was laughing so hard she had curled slightly into a ball. They took a moment to calm down. Lynne was also laughing at the memory. "Did you ever hurt yourself as a girl?" Lynne asked, after calming down.

Constance nodded. "Absolutely, I..." She cut herself off. She had fallen off her broom several times when she first began learning, far worse than Mildred Hubble even had. But she couldn't tell Lynne this. She thought, and smiled when she thought of a story she could tell Lynne by obiting some facts of it. "When I was in my third year, I thought it would be a wonderful idea to attempt accobates. I decided to get myself several feet into the air, on basically something as thin as branch of tree. Then attempted to do a flip on it."

"You didn't."

"I very stupidly, did," Constance said, laughing at her own foolish actions. "I fell, obviously. Broke my arm in several places, and have a rather large scar on my side from it. Why I ever thought it was a good idea was far beyond me. I had never taken a single gymnastics course. As a matter of fact, my school didn't have a physical education department at all, leaving me horribly under qualified. But I thought it would be a good idea."

"Don't you just wish sometimes you could go back and tell your younger self not to do just some of the insane things we all did."

Constance laughed softly. This of course was a possibility, but it would be more reckless to do it. But she understood it was the idea of it that made her laughed. "Sometimes, yes. I really do," she agreed.

They remained like this for another hour or so, talking about all different things. Both drifted to sleep, finding a gentle ease in their conversation. Constance found herself surprised the following morning that she had recieved another full night of sleep.


	9. A Decision

Constance found her self somewhat exhausted. She wondered if it was just the day, and this street fair she found entirely frivolous. She saw no need to be here at all. Lynne simply explained that because it was an art fair that it would allow Mildred to see the diversity of different art styles by current creators. Constance couldn't dispute this. Thus here she was standing between a vendor which sold tie die merchandise and another swearing to be able to reach fortunes. She found herself in this particular spot as she waited for Lynne and Mildred to return with ice cream Lynne insisted on purchasing.

"Are you having a good time Miss Hardbroom?" Oli asked, excited at having had her classes canceled for the day. Constance gave a tight smile. 

"Of sorts," she replied. 

"How do you mean? You don't like the art?"

Constance looked at the plethora of gaudy paintings before her. "Not particularly this art, no."

Oli chuckled. "I don't mean this specific booth. But you haven't seen any you like?"

"Not as of yet."

"Well, the day isnt over. Maybe you will."

"I find that rather difficult to believe," Constance said. Disgust grew when she saw a painting of a dog in a tutu.

"That wasn't the best example, " she said. After a few beats of silence, Oli looked back to her. "So, you and my sister?"

Constance felt her eyes widen and look to the young woman. "I don't know what you're referring to."

"Oh, please. The two of you have been making googly eyes at each other all week. Plus, she is my sister. You don't think we talk?"

"And what, exactly, have the two of you talked about?" Constance demand. Olivia smiled knowingly.

"Oh, this and that," she said casually. "You must be something special for her. I've never seen her so sweet on someone so quickly."

Constance felt a lump in her throat. Swallowing it, she tried to remain calm. "You haven't?"

"Nope. Normally she is super particular and, well, down right picky. And she just glows when she see you."

"You think?"

Olivia hummed as they caught sight of Lynne and Mildred walking up to them. Each carrying two ice creams. Lynne moved back with four cones in her hand. Constance looked at Lynne more closely, she did seem to have a glowing aura about her when her eyes caught Constance's. Her smile somehow growing wider and eyes sparkling in the sun. Sun that shouldn't have been out today. Constance justified this was the cause. 

"I told you I didn't want any," Constance said, taking the one extended to her regardless. It was too cold for one, but Lynne had been so thoughtful. 

'Yes, well I decided you should," Lynne said with a large grin, handing off the others.

"Miss Hardbroom, I was wondering. There was a picture there I wanted a closer look at. Would it be asking too much to go back?" Mildred asked, her attitude also bright. 

"Miss Lamplighter seemed very keen in making an attempt with that ridiculous gun, for a plush toy," Constance said, as her reasoning for not backtracking. She knew exactly what painting Mildred was referring to and had no intentions of going back to look at it. She was also interested to see if Lynne could actually knock down the targets without magic.

"Then can Oli and I go look?" Mildred asked, making Constance almost laugh at the idea. That was until Lynne nudged her, giving Constance a look that she should a agree. Mildred had proven herself this week. Reluctantly, Constance sighed and rolled her eyes, causing Mildred to cheer slightly.

"Do not buy anything without consulting me. We need to be able to carry it back without hassle. And we will meet at the Eye at 8. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Miss Hardbroom! Thank you!" Mildred said, still clearly excited. Olivia was also smiling wildly at this. Mildred took Olivia's hand and took off with Mildred back down the way.

"I do hope I don't regret this," she said, watching them vanish into the crowd. She turned back to Lynne, who was smirking gently, but had concern in her eyes. "What?"

"I found something this morning I've been wanting to discuss. This is the first time we've been alone since. So, why not now."

Constance looked to her, careful not to run into anyone. "And what is that?"

"Your and Mildred's brooms," Lynne said, causing Constance to stop walking. Lynne looked down to Constance's dropped desert. "That poor ice cream never had a chance did it?"

Constance looked down, momentarily caught of by the abrupt subject change. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

"I know," Lynne said, and hooked her arm in Constance's as Lynne moved them over to a small area so they could talk more privately. "So?"

She could clear her memories going all the way back to this moment, but this is precisely what she hadn't wanted to do. Even if it was what she was expected to do. She didn't want any part of her time with Lynne to go unremembered. She didn't want to lie. So many wonderful things had happened since this morning, let alone the past few days. She didn't want Lynne to forget the silly song she and the girls had sung on the way here. Nor did she want Lynne to forget the jokes or conversations. It was ridiculous, Constance knew, but she didn't. Even if it meant Lynne having to face the council. 

"So, what?" Perhaps she could play dumb. By all that was, she didn't want to hide herself from the woman she wanted to have even a fighting chance at a relationship with. It had to better, however, than the alternatives. 

"Why did you tell me?" 

"Tell you what in particular?"

"That you're witches. Aren't we... Well, I'm not sure what we are. I know we don't know each other well, but isn't thar what this is? Getting to know each other? I need you to know you can talk to me, especially about things that matter a lot to you."

"You upset?" Constance asked weakly, her resolving in trying to cover the truth broken. She was more worried about Lynne thought of her now. "Do," she hesitated slightly, "do you hate me?"

"What? No? Surprised, yes. A little hurt you felt you couldn't tell me, sure. But I couldn't hate you for that. I'm not upset either. I just... If you want this, truly, then I need you to know that you can tell me things. I don't want a version of you you've had to created for me. I want you, and that is a part of you."

Constance looked down, uneasily. Lynne sounded upset. She said she wasn't, but if that was true why did she sound that way. Lynne took Constance's hand. Constance found her eyes, and they were soft, reassuring.

"If you're not ready to talk about it right now, that's fine. I'm sorry if you feel like ambushed you. I wasn't sure how to bring it up, but knew I needed to ask you directly. I do think we need to talk about it though, if you want this to continue."

Constance felt her jaw trembling slightly. Of course she wanted this to continue. She would never put so much on the line if she didn't. She needed to explain herself, why she hadn't told her. 

"It isn't safe for you to know we exist," Constance said, her voice dipping lower.

"What do you mean?"

"We have a code, a sort of laws... You'll have to be tested to see if you can be trusted with the knowledge." Constance knew Lynne could see the fear in her as she said this.

"And if I don't pass?"

"You would never even remember me," Constance said, her voice shaking. "I'd be a stranger to you."

Lynne's face fell. "You can't be serious."

"Unfortunately, I am. Remember how we told you about the Weird Sister. It's more than just history, it's a cautionary tail. To many of our people have died. The code was made to protect us, as were our schools. It is the duty of all witches to keep another safe. Only those human who pass may have any part of our world."

They grew silent, looking at one another. Constance could feel a heaviness between them. 

"I understand," Lynne accepted. "It's for your safety. I would never want to comprise it."

Constance gave a soft smile at this. "We hardly know each other, Lynne."

"That doesn't change anything."

"No, but it is why I didn't tell you. Until I knew," Constance took a deep breath. "I didn't want to tell you until either you found out or I knew this was serious."

"And I found out first," Lynne said, her voice thicker. 

"I didn't mean it like that. I've told you I know I'm not good with relationships. There was no need to tell you, have you go through it, if I didn't have to. If I am telling you the truth, it is because I didn't want you to forget me."

Lynne's lips turned up slightly. "This must have been a lot to think about.

"It has been, yes. In fact, it has taken a lot out of me to not think about. I have a frequency of over thinking."

Lynne chuckled softly. "I have noticed." 

Constance laughed softly in return. They became silent again. Constance noticed that Lynne was playing with Constance's hand mindlessly. It felt soothing. She felt like part of the weight was lifted. Of course this would mean Lynne would have the trial, which scared her. Perhaps she could ask for Imogen's help with it. Lynne seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.

"You don't mind, honestly?" Constance asked.

"I've always love witches. Do you remember me telling you all how I thought that school had witches. I don't mind, or care. I mean, not really. It doesn't change how I see you. But I don't want you to be scared to talk to me about it either," Lynne explained, then licked the melted ice cream from her hand. 

"I... Thank you," Constance said, feeling a small sense of relief. It wasn't just relief though, she realised. Something bigger overcame her. She had never told anyone nonmagical she was a witch, it felt freeing. Knowing that Lynne knew, and wasn't running. That she wished to learn more about her made Constance feel warm."That means a great deal to me."

"I'm glad," Lynne commented, lighting up and pulled her closer.

They walked in silence for a few moments, that was until Lynne spotted the next booth that was a game. She let go of Cosntace and excited shuffled over to the vendor. Constance stood back watching with something in the area of ammusement as Lynne tried several attempts at knocking down bottles with a ball. something that should, in essense, be rather easy. It didn't take a genius to deduce the game was rigged. Constance didn't see the point of it all anyhow, but could see how much Lynne wanted to win. Constance could very easily win the game with a hint of magic. And after seeing a disappointed Lynne shuffle back to her, Constance couldn't seem to feel bad for the woman and to do exactly that.

"I suppose I should call it," Lynne said with a sigh of defeat.

"No, no. Do one more," Constance said, vaugely gesturing to the ball on the counter. No one saw the quick, yet simple, enchantment she placed on it.

"You think?"

Constance nodded, passing the vendor so she now stood beside Lynne. She paid the vendor with her money this time, and smiled gently to Lynne. Lynne picked up the call more confidently, tossing an amused look to Constance. "What are you? My lucky charm or something?"

"Or something," Constance agreed, trying to hide her smile.

Lynne nodded, feeling either more confident or wanting to impress Constance. Constance wasn't sure. Throwing it precisely, the ball hit the center of the stack of bottles. Each on toppled with a loud crash from the hit. The vender shot them a look of confusion making Constance fold her arms in pride. Lynne turned to Constance excitedly, and flung herself into Constance's arm in a large huge, holding her tightly. When she pulled away Lynne crossed to the vender, claiming her prize. The prize that was a giant grey teddy bear with a red bow around its neck, that Constance found hideous.

"Here you are," Lynne said, handing the oversized plug toy to her. Constance took the toy relucantly and found it was nearly half her size.

"Why are you giving this to me?" Constance asked, confused.

"Because I was trying to win it for you, so now it's yours?"

"What?" She looked at the the toy almost horrified.

"Only the best for my girlfriend," Lynne said, only catching what she said after she had said it. Constance's face fell at the words. Something Lynne immediately saw. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

"You didn't?" Constance asked, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"I mean, that's unless you wanted me to?"

Constance bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She cleared her throat. "Is that what you want? For me to be your girlfriend? To date me... properly?" She couldn't help the pointed words at the end of her sentence.

"Well, I do enjoy making out with you a lot," Lynne said, trying to joke. Constance could feel herself blushing deeply, and adjusted the toy awkwardly. She was surprised at how heavy it was. "But I want more than that. So yea, it is what I want. You said you weren't sure it was serious, but I want it to be. Do you?"

"I've never dated anyone," Constance admitted, feeling awkward. She could see Lynne's shoulders slump slightly, and knew she'd said something that Lynne didn't want to hear. "But I would like to try," she added.

"You would?" Lynne asked, seeking confirmation. Constance could see a spark in Lynne eye that made her smile. No one had ever looked at her like that, at least not anyone that she wanted to. Constance gave her a small nod, which made Lynne sigh with happiness. "I'd kiss you right now, if there wasn't this giant bear in the way."

Constance looked down to it distainfully. As much as she hated its apperiance, the fact Lynne had won it for her made her love it. She adjusted it again, unable to keep a firm grasp on it.

"I just told Mildred not to get anything big. How on Earth am I meant to get this back to Cackles?" She asked.

"We'll figure something out," Lynne replied with a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me longer than normal to update today. I try to post before 2pm my time, and couldn't today. Last night and today have been quiet busy. I may have to take a break to get some personal things done and to finish the story, but I have 12 chapters written. I still need to edit them and write the last few chapters. When I do start posting again it will be back to every other day until it's finished :)


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